


Duty to Retreat

by cemetrygatess



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Emotional Intimacy, First Kiss, First Time, Garak did not consent to falling in love, Garak's Problems with intimacy, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, Mid season 4, POV Elim Garak, Silly lizard man, Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-05
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:08:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29853714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetrygatess/pseuds/cemetrygatess
Summary: As it turned out, the only foolproof approach would have been to turn down the invitation altogether.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak
Comments: 22
Kudos: 129





	Duty to Retreat

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to ectogeo for the beta read. All mistakes are my own.

When the Doctor sauntered into his shop one evening, inviting Garak to dine in his quarters, he should have said no. The CMO’s voice was very casual, leaving plenty of room for Garak to concoct a flimsy excuse. That was certainly what he should have done, nip the whole thing in the bud before it had a chance to get out of hand. But then he would have had to see the doctor deflate a little. His shoulders would sag. He would look disappointed but his face would be filled with understanding. If Garak said no, Dr. Bashir, in his sweetness, would inevitably think that it was because Garak didn’t like him enough. Garak didn’t want him to think that. That might affect their lunch schedule and that was absolutely out of the question. 

He reasoned that he was perfectly able to enjoy a lovely dinner with Dr. Bashir. It need not be anything more. He could simply have an additional meal with the man, soaking up his radiant light for one evening, and then make a gracious but hasty exit. Dr. Bashir would surely not be hurt by that, and then things could resume in comfortable normalcy. 

Halfway through dinner, Garak found he was beginning to doubt this plan was somewhat. The dinner was exhilarating, jumping from argument to argument, and so when Dr. Bashir got up to offer him a post-dinner tea, it seemed only polite to accept. His exit would perhaps not be quite as hasty as he initially planned, but he would absolutely be on his way immediately after. What harm could come from such an innocent request?

The harm, as it turned out, was the doctor scooching towards him — all that mammalian heat ever so tempting when one lived on a cold station. He should have inched back as their thighs almost touched, but he didn’t. It would have been the prudent thing to do, and certainly the moment of frisson that the closeness elicited could be easily forgotten. But the Doctor was smiling, and smirking, so Garak bargained with himself once again. Just a few minutes more, he lied. Just a few minutes more and then he would thank the doctor for a lovely evening, and be on his merry way.

And when that failed, he absolutely should not have let the Doctor kiss him. He should not have made an undignified hissing noise in the back of this throat at the surprise of it. And most certainly he should not have leaned into the heat. 

But even having made these mistakes, he still could have turned the situation around. It was simple. He only had to say very kindly that Dr. Bashir had misunderstood. He would say it with as non-judgmental an air as possible. Such behavior would not engender any hard feelings. In the privacy of his mind, he could hold this memory dear, but it would only be a memory. It would not be accompanied by feelings such as yearning or desire. That was the reasonable course of action that would allow both of them to go their separate ways without any bitterness. 

When he opened his mouth to explain, he only got so far as “Doctor… “ before the man had replied “I think you really ought to call me Julian.” The smart thing would have been to not call him Julian. But it was such a polite request, made with warm brown eyes. 

Still though, there was an exit. He could have smiled and left, and another day turned down a subsequent date. That was the thing to do. The thing to do was absolutely not to reply “then call me Elim,” and to dissolve into Julian’s arms. 

Saying something like that would inevitably lead to going to bed together. That was a dangerous path. But when Julian took his hand, and pressed palm to palm, led him to the bedroom, Elim could find no protest. 

And surely, when the human bit down on his shoulder ridge it would have made sense to say something other than “Harder!” (or at least to say it a little less desperately). And he absolutely should not have freed Julian from his uniform, even if it was dreadfully ugly. And he should not have nipped and sucked along the human’s neck, eliciting moans more beautiful than a Cardassian symphony. 

When Julian asked to take off his clothes, he should have done something other than acquiesce. His eyes he knew were full of want, but given a little more self discipline, such emotion could be concealed. He should not have pulled the human closer, all but begging Julian to penetrate him. Actions like that were reserved for the hedonistic Federaji, a group Elim liked to think of himself as fundamentally distinct from. 

Afterward, it would have been best to retreat, and write the evening off as gratifying, but not to be repeated. Yes, it had been lovely, but that did not mean it had to be anything more than it was —two friends finding each other to be enjoyable company. 

But then Julian had looked up at him and said simply “I’d like it if you stayed.” His face was so open, and so hopeful. After a truly excellent orgasm, Garak refused to do anything that might hurt Julian’s feelings. Only because it would be rude to do so, and was therefore absolutely out of the question. So he laid down, and let their bodies roll together. He should not have placed a soft kiss at the nape of the human’s neck. And he should not have let his arms wrap around Julian, as he dozed off quickly and contentedly. 

He woke in the wee hours of the morning to use the restroom. From a practical standpoint, that was the moment to leave, but instead he lingered, and as he did, Julian woke up. 

“Are you coming back to bed, love?” Julian asked, his voice hazy with sleep. 

And that’s when Elim realized whatever exits he’d imagined were long gone. Perhaps there hadn’t been any to begin with. 

“Yes, love,” he said, before sliding back into bed.

**Author's Note:**

> So I guess this is what “taking a writing break” looks like. Hope you enjoyed it! Your comments and kudos are ever appreciated.


End file.
